


Breathe Me

by FloodFeSTeR



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angry Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Comfort/Angst, Drug Abuse, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings, Humor, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kindness, Murder, Porn With Plot, Psychological Trauma, Sarcasm, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Trauma, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, dealing with FEELINGS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, if it isn't my old friend the frozen tv-dinner?" </p><p>He thought it was a pretty good line, one good enough to be his last. But when she didn't pull the trigger. . .</p><p> </p><p>In which my Sole Survivor, Katarina, can't bring herself to kill Kellogg. The man that took her baby, killed her husband and royally fucked up her life. She doesn't know why she wants him alive, but in the end, its one of the best decisions she'd make since waking .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I don't know where this came from either.

_"Well, if it isn't my old friend the frozen tv-dinner?"_

He thought it was a pretty good line, one good enough to be his last. But when she didn't pull the trigger, he couldn't sick his synth on her. When he opens his eyes, he realizes he was too much of a damn coward in the end to look a housewife in the eye as she shot him down.

A tiny slip, she was, holding a gun that was almost as long as she was tall and she looked ready to shove the barrel between his teeth; it was a wonder she hadn't done it already, he deserved it and he knew it. She didn't look like the Wasteland had done her any good aside from putting a pretty gun in her hand and some meat on her bones. Other than that she was tanned and shaking, her eyes slightly sunken, bloodshot; she hadn't slept good in the month since she started hunting him.

He hadn't slept either, when he went huntin.

She didn't pull the trigger, didn't let that energy beam clear through his skill, turn him to ash or just obliterate him. She wanted to, she had that look of despair on her face and her finger caressed the trigger but she was shaking and he knew defeat. He could have pulled his trigger, killed her so easily, but the old man would have his own head and he couldn't have that on his hands.

_No, it had to be her._

"What," he mocked. "Too afraid? Have you even taken a life on the Wastes yet?"

"Shut up!" She screeched, whipping her head side-to-side in a panicky way, gripping a handful of hair in a tight fist; the butt of her rifle slammed into the floor. "J-Just shut the fuck up!"

"Or what," he hummed. "You'll shoot me? Isn't that what you came here to do? I took your kid, killed your husband," her eyes flickered up to his. "Use that fire, get your revenge."

Her fingers slowly loosened in her hair, her jaw trembling; he could faintly hear her teeth chattering. She had the balls to look over her shoulder, to the ghoul staring at her in the background. Kellogg knew the ghoul in the get up, Hancock, possibly one of the only men Kellogg would admit was as dangerous as him.

Unpredictable, charismatic, ruthless and yet he'd seen people smile into this ghoul's blade.

Kellogg could never command such an audience.

"Jesus," his eyes moved to hers again, saw that crease of realization. "I-I can't do it," she shook her head. "I can't. . .Hancock," he hummed. "Do it."

Kellogg growled and lurched for her but the bullet hit him and pain made him hit the floor. No, no it had to be her! She had to be the one that killed him, ended him! That was how it was always supposed to go, how he had predicted, how he had planned!

Lasers shot over his head, blue and red, the gleeful cackle of the ghoul tearing apart circuits nearby; a soulless synth head bounced and rolled to a stop, eyes locking with Kellogg's as it died.

Kellogg cringed and rolled onto his back, pain shooting up his back as he did so. He could feel the blood soaking through his pants. . .wait a minute.

His eyes widened and stayed that wide as the room quieted, even through her rustling through his pants. He heard her boots thunk away, the click of her fingers going over the keyboard of his terminal.

He was. . .still alive.

His eyes never wavered from that focus on an old water stain above his head, even whenever Hancock crouched by his head and smirked down at him. "Thought she was gonna kill ya huh," he scratched at the dry skin of his forehead; his hat bobbed above his knuckles. "Man, don' know what she has planned for you but I'm gonna have fun with this."

After a moment, she entered his vision and he finally looked over at her, watching her flick away his id card. She released a shaky breath, her lips parted and revealing those pearly white teeth. She looked like she hated her decision, that he was already a burden and on some level, Kellogg was curious as to what she wanted with him. Why did she keep him alive? He didn't leave the people alive that took his wife, his baby; they'd had the same revenge plot, but she'd kept her enemy alive.

"Get. . ." She sighed and pulled her rifle into her arms. "Get him up off of the floor."

"Well thank you for allowing me to do the heavy lifting," the ghoul batted his non-existent lashes as he approached Kellogg.

"You thank me for the strangest things," she muttered, narrowing her eyes slightly when he hefted Kellogg over his shoulder. "Radiation is a son of a bitch," she shook her head.

Hancock grinned. "You're tellin me, I can barely feel his weight," he craned his head back but wasn't anywhere near looking at Kellogg's face. "Do you even eat, man?"

"Bite me, ghoul," Kellogg snapped, feeling like a child. "Do what she can't seem to do, kill me."

"Nah," Hancock chirped. "See, she runs the show, I'm just the lacky."

"Ignore him, Hancock," she muttered as the security gate swung open. "Finally, I didn't want to have to walk all the way back around," she cast Kellogg an almost disgusted look as Hancock hauls him through the door.

"What are you doing," he snarled. "Kill me."

She shook her head though and ignored him as she instructed the ghoul, who was humming and seemed as content as could be with the situation; what was the chem-of-the-day? There was so much confusion and anger swirling around in Kellogg's head. He had planned out every detail and she had followed up until this point. She'd been so predictable, what had changed? Who had talked her into this, what had calmed the rage? Maybe it was that final little detail, the one where it wasn't his fault Shaun was taken from her but the Institute. Maybe she felt pity for him, thought he was under their spell or something stupid like that.

She wouldn't be too far off.

When they stepped outside, the sun is barely in sight and the rain is nearing a downpour, drops leaking through the cracks along the ceiling. Hancock drops Kellogg and holds him up in a more mature way, an arm slung over the shoulder and all that. She brushes past them and starts working on that computer, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth after a moment or two ticks by.

"Need some help, sunshine," Hancock chirps.

She scowls at him over her shoulder and gives the keyboard one final tap. "Even if I did, you don't know jack shit about computers."

Hancock chuckled and shrugged, helping Kellogg limp along and out into the rain. He wanted to sigh into the cool rain, lean back and enjoy it a little bit longer but he wasn't in the most pleasant company.

And there was. . .something coming through the trees.

Well, not exactly the trees but that's what it looked like at first. Vertibirds swept over their heads, kicking up gusts of wind that made her cover her eyes. Then there was the giant. . .thing, he'd seen one in an old magazine before - a Zeppelin? It even made him shut his mouth and watch it glide under armed-to-the-teeth escort with blades and mini-guns strapped to the undercarriage. Lights swept over them and the ghoul grunted in Kellogg's ear, ducking his head to scrub at his eyes with his free hand.

And she just stared.

Watched that big hunk of floating metal crackle to life and introduce itself. "People of the Commonwealth," a thick voice came over them and it was worth a wince. "Do not interfere, our intentions are peaceful. We are. . .the Brotherhood of Steel."

"One Hell of an entrance," Hancock commented, watching the Zeppelin move over the wasteland, gliding just as peacefully as it liked.

She nodded softly, in a daze. "I. . .Danse," she murmured and looked back at him, them. "I need to get back to Danse. Like, now."

"Runnin with Brotherhood," Kellogg chuckled grimly. "Knew you were a goody-two-shoes."

"Why are we keepin him again, Kat," Hancock groaned.

She pursed her lips softly and shook her head, craning it to watch the giant ship cresting towards the Boston sky line. "Lets start walkin," she paused. "We can stop by Hangman, he him patched up, ressuply, and then we go back to Danse."

"Really think it's a good idea to bring me along," Hancock questioned as he helped Kellogg limp. "I mean, they shoot folk like me on sight."

"And I'll shoot them back," she snapped. "Just stay close and I'll worry about threatening them, okay?"

Hancock grumbled. "You take all the fun outta this stuff."

And she chuckled, actually cracked a smile and chuckled at the ghoul. She looked younger then, the limes on her face more prominent but she gained this glow to her face.

Where the fuck did that come from?

* * *

She's made a fortress out of an alley.

Built over the foundation already there and put the beds and fun areas above their heads, crops in the corners, market stalls in the cubby-holes. There's two entrances and both have guard towers and three turrets a piece. Two heavy laser turrets are in the alley and on the very edges? Two missile turrets a piece.

Honestly, Kellogg is impressed.

And the people are welcoming, a teenage girl named Celia is working on his leg right now and, lacking Med-X because the provisioner is on a supply run, he can barely feel her digging out the remains of the bullet in his leg.

He watches her, Katarina, repair a laser turrets generator in the corner and he knows that 'herb' Celia gave him had some kind of mental effect on him because he can't even stew. He's mad, definitely still mad, but everything is neat and organized in his brain right now. He's never drugged himself, this feels very strange and its almost more infuriating than her inability or refusal to put a bullet in his head.

Doesn't she get it, he wants to die.

He wants to see his family again, wants to hold them and tell them how sorry he was, how he shouldn't have done all that crap.

But she wouldn't let him die and it was pissing him off.

"You know, if you keep making faces like that, you'll get your face stuck like that."

"I don't even have the energy to scowl at you girl," he breathed around a puff of cigarette smoke.

Celia chuckled softly and then smirked when he winced at her abruptly tugging on the knot of his bandages. "Don't need a bullet to get revenge," she said with a quirk of her brow. "Don' know what's goin on with you two, but don' start no fights here, got me? Be a shame to have all these turrets waste ya, and I gotta clean up th' mess."

"I'll keep that in mind," he snapped but that slur in his voice made things difficult.

Celia rolled her eyes and stood from her stool beside the gurney she had him draped over, wiping her fingers on the bloody rag in her hand. "Rest, stupid. Don' go an' ruin all ma hard work."

Kellogg didn't say anything this time, just turned his nose at her and focused on the sky that was peeking through the floorboards above his head.

He could really use another cigarette right now.

"I don't know why I kept you alive, alright," he peered at Katarina sideways. "Maybe its because you're the best lead I have to getting into the Institute, maybe the Wasteland finally got to me and I'm going bonkers," she shook her head. "But you're not dying on me, got it? I got two days and then I'm wanted to report into my superiors, and you're still tagging along," she reached back into the pack around her waist and produced two sets of handcuffs. "Hancock is scavenging up more, you're not getting away from me."

"I can still run," he snapped.

And she grinned. "I've always wanted to try my hand at some bondage work," she sighed. "Don't make this so hard, at least I don't have Hancock torturin you like he's begging. And he's really good at it."

Kellogg snorted, glaring at her. "I don't really give a damn, my dear."

"Ooh, snippy," she scrunched up her nose. "Look, if I decide you're not worth it anymore, I'll put a bullet between your eyes. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful."

Katarina rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day - it seemed - and pushed away from the gurney. She didn't know what she was doing, had been winging it since the base and she was so scared she was making the wrong decision, keeping him alive that is.

Hancock was no help.

_"He took your kid," he had snorted. "If you weren't so dead set on keepin the fucker, I would have wasted him already."_

Very valid points, but something said _No_.

"Thanks, by the way," Katarina smiled shyly as she entered Celia's little cubby behind her stall. "For. . .patchin him up, I know he wasn't the best patient but -"

"Actually," Celia chirped, dropping her tweezers into the jar of antiseptic. "He was one of my best; room the drugs without whining or getting excited, sat still as I picked out shrapnel," she turned to Katarina with a furrowed brow. "Who is he?"

Katarina scratched the back of her neck. "You know, that's a very long story."

Celia sighed. "I figured," she paused and smiled at the confused woman. "So, how long do I have ya this time?"

Katarina shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I guess until tonight, stab that asshole with a stimpak and we limp away. I. . .the Brotherhood Of Steel are looking for me," she paused at Celia's alarmed expression. "Its not bad, I promise. I helped out one of their Paladin's awhile back and, well, he made me an Initiate. So we all report in now that the Mothership has touched down."

Celia shook her head. "Well, just don't go believin in their nonsense. Some of it is tolerable. . .but they get a lil radical."

Katarina nodded. "Yeah, the Paladin was a bit of a sight."

Celia chuckled. "Well, so long as he was cute."

"Oh totally."

They both chuckled and Celia sighed after a moment, gaining a sympathetic smile from Katarina. "Been a long couple'a days," Celia sighed again and perched on the stool behind her stall, leaning forward to close the stall doors. "Been workin Sun in Diamond City to set up a supply line with the other settlements but he won't hear of it thanks to Crocker's. . .slip up."

"He murdered a man."

"Yeah, that," Celia cleared her throat. "And the Guard keeps flockin in an outta here thanks to th' mutants. I need an extra set'a hands."

Katarina hummed. "Well, I can talk to some the caravan's that visit the settlements further out in the Wastes, see if they wanna set up here."

Celia nodded. "Tha' could work, so long as they know 'm the boss."

Katarina snorted as she pushed off of the wall. "I doubt they'll be able to argue that," Celia grinned. "Well, let me go find Hancock. I wanna leave by morning."

"Lemme look him over 'fore ya leave," Celia called after the woman.

Katarina waved a hand over her shoulder and looked around, seeing the stalls empty, the Brahmin drinking lazily from its trough. Kellogg was in the corner where she had left him, propped up on the gurney with a cigarette burning the joints of his glove. She tsked and strode towards him, taking the cigarette and putting it out against the bricks; who the Hell had given him one of those?

"I want what he's havin."

Katarina pursed her lips and looked over at Hancock, who was busy shaking the rest of his Jet from the inhaler. "How can you do that stuff and still function properly?"

"Years of practice," he frowned at the empty container, then at Kellogg. "We gotta haul his loopy ass to Cambridge? Not gonna wait for full recuperation?"

Katarina quirked her lips in the corner, pulling a stimpak from her waist bag. "Just an hour or two," she tore off the plastic cap and inserted the needle into his leg at the edge of his bandages; he groaned in his sleep. "Then we have to hurry, Danse gets impatient."

"Who cares," Hancock snapped then sighed. "Fine, fine, whatever," he paused. "You're totin him part way."

"Rock, paper, scissors for it," she held out a fist.

Hancock rolled his eyes but did the same. "I lose every time," he grumbled as he tossed up scissors.

"Because you always choose scissors," Katarina rolled her eyes. "But fine, I'll tote him halfway, happy?"

"Obviously."


	2. Chapter 2

She's more than elated to see Danse, she looks like she's ready to just explode. She doesn't even care that he's in his armor, she has to throw herself at him and wrap her arms around his neck. Thanks to his power armor, he doesn't stumble, but he does jerk back a little out of surprise and he can't help that.

"I-Initiate," he sputters. "This is highly inappropriate."

"Oh I'll show you inappropriate," she snarked and pat the thick part of his chest armor. "How's everything holding up around here?"

His eyes flickered to the several new heads that had literally dropped from the sky as Katarina and her followers had showed up. He'd enjoyed being smug about watching his brothers and sisters drop from the sky, the Vertibird skidding against the landing pad on the roof. He always did get a little excited watching what the Brotherhood was capable of, though he did believe the grand entrances were a bit over dramatic at times.

"We have the man power to keep this base fortified," Danse sighed, his eyes one Hancock and the man limping beside him. "You are always looking to get your companions shot at, yes?"

Katarina looked over her shoulder. "I know you guys don't like Hancock," she looked back up at Danse. "And the other guy is a bit of a necessity."

"Is he. . .are those multiple handcuffs?"

Katarina rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Um. . .yeah, like I said he's a necessity. Can't have him gettin away."

"There are better ways of going about apprehending him."

"Maybe, but I'm working with what I got," she hesitated. "Look, if I trusted anyone else here. . .I'd just leave these two behind but they gotta come with us."

Danse frowned deeply but nodded. "My brothers and sisters will not be happy. . .but I will vouch for them as well, even if he is a ghoul."

"Thank you, Danse," she gave him an apologetic look.

He smiled at her, starting towards the doors leading into the police station. "I would have thought you would have brought the mercenary with you."

Katarina swallowed thickly. "He's uh. . .he's a little tied up right now."

"A shame, he seemed good company for a mercenary," Danse paused as he led her up the stairs, towards the roof and the sound of blades clipping at the air. "Board the vertibird and we'll be on our way."

Katarina had spent too much time in the Cambridge Police Station, enough to get Rhys to actually smile at her, though it looked more like a smirk; she was pretty sure that's the only expression he could make aside from looking like he just sniffed Brahmin shit. There was a soldier in power armor helping to lift various heavy objects in an adjacent room, like carrying out a desk or rubble that the regulars couldn't get to. Katarina remembered the power behind that suit, felt it in her own, which was in shambles in Diamond City. She'd felt like a damn super hero, able to leap tall hoes in a single bound - wait, that didn't sound right.

"Brotherhood," Kellogg scoffed against her back as they climbed the stairs leading towards the roof. "Bunch of boy scouts playing with pre war toys."

"What did he say," Danse went to turn around, but Katarina pushed him forward the best she could.

"Skit on, that's what I'm saying," she pulled the last handcuff from her belt and grabbed Kellogg by the wrists. "And you keep your mouth shut," she snarled, just beneath the chopping of the blades.

Danse boarded first, basically hailing Kellogg up with one hand before Katarina secured him to the metal chair that he wasn't allowed to sit in. Hancock smirked as he fell into the chair, tugging the straps down over his shoulder as the vertibird starting to climb.

Katarina had only ever flown in a Vertibird once in her life, when she was being carried to Nate's base in the mountains of D.C., a relay station she had known too many souls in. She'd forgotten what it looked like to fly above it all, out of most harms way; not every Wastelander had a rocket launcher, thankfully. Everything looked perched of color almost, hazy with the brighter colors smoothed out by the mist forming from the morning. They passed over a raiders nest, ignored by the bloodthirsty psychopaths as Danse rambled on about something in the ear piece Katarina had been given.

Katarina was all for protecting people and slaying the scum of the Wasteland, but she didn't wanna gab about it for hours. So what if the rest of the Wasteland didn't want to join the Brotherhood's cause? The only reason Katarina was joint was because they had the power to get her one step closer to the Institute. They were hunting the Institute, in a more bold way that those fuckers just couldn't ignore; the Railroad had a more noble cause than hoarding technology, but there was only so far covert could get her.

Katarina didn't want to destroy synth, they had as many emotions as she did and it was like murdering an innocent human being.

She jumped when a weight hit her back and her fingers tightened around the minigun in front of her. "What the fuck," she screeched against the back of Kellogg's head.

Hancock smirked over the mans shoulder. "Sorry, my boot slipped," he chirped and then slouched in his chair.

Katarina jerked back roughly and Kellogg stumbled into the metal wall of the Vertibird, glaring down at Hancock. She rolled her eyes and looked back down at the Commonwealth, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline when she saw the giant fucking ship crashed into a building. She could barely make out the writing on the side, and didn't have time to study it longer because the vertibird abruptly turned and then the Prydwen was a big, black blob against the skyline.

"She's amazing," Katarina whispered in honest awe at the ship hovering over the old airport.

"She is, isn't she," Danse said proudly, like he had built the ship himself. "If she's here, that means Elder Maxson is here and we have a war on our hands."

"Could have sworn we already were," Katarina muttered, but he either ignored her or didn't hear her because he didn't respond.

When they dock, Katarina is more than embarrassed when she tumbles back into the side of Hancock's chair. Mostly because she ends up with her ponytail jammed into Kellogg's -

"Fuck me," she hissed and scrambled off of the Vertibird, almost slamming her face into the toe of Danse's boots.

Hancock was cackling wildly as he undid Kellogg's handcuffs; the man actually kind of looked like he was confused. Katarina grumbled as she hooked her fingers into the grooves of Danse's armor, stumbling to her feet.

"Its not funny," she snapped.

"Would have been much better if you went in face first," Hancock snickered.

"Who's side are you on?!"

"The side of comedy my dear," he gripped the roof of the Vertibird and slung himself forward, landing in a crouch beside her. "Come on, that was some funny shit."

She slapped away the hand he offered and adjusted herself as she managed to get to her feet. Kellogg landed beside her and Katarina couldn't look at him, running a hand down her front as she followed behind Danse.

Professional, cold and the lawyer she should have been; just as polished anyway. She may have had some blood in her hair, suit may have been torn, but she still knew how to throw up that steely facade.

A heart forged in eternal steel.

* * *

He wants to blanch at the accommodations aboard that blasted air ship, finds it almost as sickening as the look she gives the young leader of this Brotherhood of Steel. He didn't like the kid, didn't like how clean and pretty everything was, didn't like the stench of soap that clung to his nose. Most in the Wasteland craved this shit, wanted it like they wanted to live, and that was all well an good but Kellogg hated this place. It reminded him too much of the Institute, of the NCR and all those other fuckers that had only ever used him.

Just like her, because she was using him to meet her own ends and naturally that means a blade needs to meet her throat.

She wakes with that start they all do, a sharp intake of breath and her chest arches up against his forearm, staring into his angry eyes with her startled ones. He doesn't care to taunt her about her stupid tactics at keeping him under control, about handcuffing him to rickety shit, he just wants to sever that pulse point and get the fuck off of this ship.

Maybe they'd shoot him.

Preferably with a minigun.

"You should have fucking killed me," he seethed against her face, holding that knife of hers to her own throat. "Should've put me out of my misery and went about your life."

"How the fuck," she shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "Get the fuck off of me."

"No," he chuckled. "See, you don't get to tell me what to do now that I'm not tied up or drugged up. Now I'm gonna slit your throat and get the fuck off of this ship, and then I'm gonna kill your kid for good measure."

Her eyes widened and she thrashed, her teeth gnashing together. He felt the smooth slip of something sharp beneath his leather jacket and instincts jerked him back where logic said he could have held a moment longer. Her thighs wrap around his waist and she grabs the arm holding him up above her mat, managing to flip them both until his back slams against metal and she has her knife back in her hand.

She pushes back the hair in her face and she looks positively demonic in the lantern light of the undercarriage; he can smell the bourbon Initiates must have snuck down here, empty bottles glimmering some ways away.

"You are fucking stupid," she snaps, twirling the blade in her fingers before tucking it against his throat. "I'm not gonna kill you, so get that giddy look out of your fucking eyes."

So close to huffing, his fingers twitch where they rest on either side of his head. Her chest heaves as she catches her breath and she has the guts to look away from him, lean back to see if anyone was coming down those steps. But it was just them, that horrible smell and the blade pulsing against his skin.

"You want more from me," she looks back down at him when he speaks. "You want something, and don't feed me that shit about finding the Institute."

She stared at him for a long time, tongue slowly dancing against her bottom lip; her fingers flexed around the blades handle. After two or three beats, she roughly pushed back her hair and shrugged, her movements jerky, sloppy.

"So maybe I have more than one reason for keeping you alive," she stated simply. "Maybe its because I don't feel the need to take life so easily like you, maybe it was some insane notion that it wasn't your time, maybe I'm crazy - but that doesn't matter," she leaned forward better. "Once I pick your brain, once I find the Institute - once I find my son - I will gladly walk right up to you, slit your throat and watch you bleed out in the sand," she paused. "How does that sound?"

He didn't speak right away. "Divine, actually."

"Good," she pulled the knife from his throat and pushed off of him. "Don't fucking move, got me? I'm going to get Danse to watch you - he won't shoot to kill either, so don't try anything."

Kellogg huffed and actually did what she said, if only because he knew she was right. She'd give the order, that man in a tin can would obey because he loved to ogle her ass and Kellogg would be subdued without a strain.

"You had twelve cuffs on the man."

"Yeah, well, he's smarter than he seems."

Kellogg looked up when he heard the clunk of power armor and saw the Paladin - disheveled from obviously being suddenly roused from sleep - now standing over him. Katarina was so tiny in comparison, hand on her hip and hair a tattered mess on her head; stop fucking thinking like that.

"Don't kill him, no matter what he tries," she instructed as Danse roughly grabbed Kellogg's upper arm. "He's going to the Fort with me tomorrow."

"You trust him with a gun in his hand," Danse scoffed.

"He just had a blade to my throat," cue a distressed, slightly angry look from the boy scout. "If he really wanted to kill me, I'd be dead already."

Kellogg chuckled as Danse pushed him towards the steps. "Smart kitty."

* * *

The old man had followed her close, tracking whenever she squat to take a piss, to when she was nearly mauled to death by a pack of mongrels. Kellogg never questioned the old man, but even he found it a little cruel that, despite having so many eyes, so many synth, so many minions on her tail, he didn't try to save her life one bit.

She'd gone against mutant hordes, fought Deathclaws by her lonesome and nearly gotten punctured by a Mirelurk Queens massive claws and the old man had done nothing to save her. She could have died out there and Kellogg had known he would just say another failed experiment.

But, maybe he knew Katarina a little bit better than that because she handled a minigun with ease; she almost had glee in her eyes. The ghoul just watched from his chair, a sly little smirk on his face; Kellogg had smelt the Jet fumes when the ghoul passed him on the ship.

"Yeah motherfucker," Katarina hissed, firing round after round down onto the behemoth. "Fall down you dumb bastard!"

She enjoyed killing and wouldn't admit it.

Mutant or not, there was pure enjoyment in those big eyes of hers. He understood. He'd never exactly liked killing, or so he told himself, but towards the end he ignored denying it any longer and started firing off for no reason.

One of the reasons he had put a round in her husbands chest.

They could have easily just taken the baby, kicked him back in his pod and have been done with it. But Kellogg had fired before he even knew it, cursed himself when he realized what he did. And the baby. . .he could still hear that kids crying, at the pounded in his ears, the echo of the 44. leaving the chamber; his ears had rang a little bit too.

Kellogg jerked when the vertibird tilted, giving Katarina better aim to rain down ammunition on that monstrosity. It wailed and hurled rocks in a haphazard manner towards the Vertibird; most of the giant balls of rubble cleared the blades, bouncing into the hull and falling into the water below. Kellogg tightened his hand in the handle above his head, eyeing the red beams from the Paladin's rifle as he tried to aid in the fight. The Paladin had been firing out the opposite side of the floor for so long, Kellogg had almost forgotten about his righteousness.

"Main target down! Look at that thing bleed!"

Kellogg looked down at the behemoth, watching the thick, greenish-blue blood of the mutant leaking from the gaping hole Katarina had driven into its chest. She flexed her fingers around the handle, leaning back slightly; to admire her work, he suppose. The ground rumbled as the behemoth swayed back and forth, hitting face-first against the old, cracked concrete; he didn't miss the howl of another mutant being crushed beneath its massive weight.

"They couldn't land a bit closer," Hancock grumbled as he watched the Vertibird lifting into the air.

"Didn't need a mutant or two to jump us is we landed closer," Katarina adjusted the grip on the laser musket she cradled in her arms. "Or worse, I'm sure this place is full of 'em."

"And pray tell, what was the bright idea behind bringing him along," Hancock jerked his thumb at Kellogg.

"Maybe I like to have a sober idiot following me around," she smirked. "But I need him in my sight."

"But you give him a loaded gun."

"No point in having an unarmed idiot."

Kellogg didn't say anything, just watched her back as she walked; he wouldn't mind watching her back a little more to be honest. Yeah, he wanted to kill her, or have her kill him, but it didn't mean he didn't get to enjoy the view.

Just how fucked up was he now?

The air was silent around them, something Kellogg didn't like and he pulled out his bull barrel to get that point across. She actually took point from him and straightened her back, slowly cranking up the musket until it was humming and the red leeched any color the rising sun had put off. Everything was red, all he could see, and the humming could drive a radstag out of its fucking mind but when they rounded the corner and she fired once, turning that mutant to ash, he didn't mind it so much.

"I wish I had an automatic," Katarina murmured, cranking it up again as they climbed the steps to the main base. "I would be able to get the same power out of it, but it'd be a Hell of a lot easier to handle."

"Should use that damn sub you forked over all those caps for," Hancock grumbled, lighting a cigarette.

"Says the asshole who only uses a knife no matter what I give him."

"The guns you give me suck."

How did they ever get anything done?

When she opened the door, they all had to take a step back; Kellogg gave a second thought to running the fuck out of there. In the center of the collapsed grand staircase was a pile of gore and body bags, a teddy bear or two for good measure on the fuck that meter. The smell that hit them was nothing Kellogg hadn't smelt before, but it always managed to almost knock him on his ass.

"God damn," Katarina murmured, stalking slowly up the steps. "I get FEV made them gross steroid advertisements, but where did the mutilation come from?"

"Do we really need to discuss biology right now," Hancock questioned, cradling the Le Fusil Terribles in his hands. "Can we just shoot these fuckers in the face and be done with this?"

"You didn't have to come," she sang and cocked her knee back, ramming her boot into the door.

Kellogg heard a battle cry and then she fired the musket, lighting the room in red and turning something to ash surely. Kellogg raised his gun when the stomping came above their heads, firing three times into a butchers chest. It stumbled back and then waved its hand in the air, running out of sight, no doubt to get to them.

He could fucking run.

He looked back at the door, those open fucking doors with the breeze rolling in and everything. The ghoul was firing into a mutants face, Katarina was doing the same in a more messy manner as gore sprayed down over her. She grinned triumphantly as the mutant toppled over, writhing in pain as it bled from the gaping hole in the side of its face.

Katarina stumbled a step back, Hancock's fire lighting up the hallway in front of them before she spoke. "If you go out that door," she looked over at him. "I'll just shoot your legs out and leave you there until we get done. Just work with me, man."

And he does, with a heavy sigh and a tight grip on his gun. Why the fuck are you doing this? Give her a reason to kill you, it'd be as simple as insulting her kid. Or maybe not, she seemed to be working towards keeping him alive, keeping him with her, so she had to have built up a buffer to him. She probably knew every insult he would fling, every stupid thing he did; she hadn't even seemed that fazed by him pulling her own knife on her, so she must have been expecting it.

He would.

"Place smells like ass," Hancock grumbled as they descended in the elevator; he paused, cocking his head. "Actually, ass smells better. . .would probably taste better too."

Katarina snickered but elbowed him in the ribs. "That is so fucking gross," he winked and ran his tongue over the blood he could reach on his chin. "You're filthy."

"Only for you, babe."

"You're both disgusting."

They gave Kellogg an uninterested glance and then looked back to the doors as they opened. The joking went away and they turned into killers, which was something that Kellogg actually liked to see. Cold professionalism in a flash, they killed with enough ease to make him be comfortable; be myself, he thought with a smirk.

She moves fast, that small blade between her teeth as she reached for the pistol on her hip. She tossed her empty musket at Hancock and he caught it with his free hand, firing the double barrel shotgun in his other hand into the hounds mouth as it charged at him. It yelped and flipping backwards, whimpering on the ground as its lower jaw hung limply against the floor.

Kellogg leaned against the railing of the stairs, his bull barrel in one hand but he didn't plan on using it. Katarina was attached to the back of an Overlord's neck, her fingers wrapped tightly around one of the straps to the mutants chest armor. It waved a gun through the air, finger held on the trigger in an attempt to hit her but all he did was pepper the ceiling with black holes. Katarina pulled the blade from her mouth, pushing against the mutants back with her bloody boots and she rammed the blade into the back of the mutants neck.

It froze, gave a small twitch and then crashed face-first against the floor. Katarina grinned and jerked the blade from its thick, green skin and kicked off of its corpse, charging at the next mutants. She arched her blade at its face, making it howl in pain as the blade sliced surprisingly deep into its face.

They tumbled into a room out of sight and Kellogg pushed off of the railing, side stepping Hancock as he stumbled back, shotgun lodged between a mutant hounds jaws.

"A little help would be appreciated you prick," Hancock snapped.

Kellogg gave him a disinterested side glance. "You look like you have it under control."

Hancock growled and went down to the floor, the hound on top of him, but Kellogg kept walking.

He could smell the rusty tang of blood that coated the walls, the flies buzzing around the gore bags making his ears ring with annoyance. Mutants had never been a regular run in for Kellogg, his jobs tended to avoided such annoying things. His usual problem came in the form of raiders and annoying civilians.

Lights flickered overhead as he followed the line of blood and dead mutants towards the back of the compound, his eyes arching over the ceiling as he stepped onto a balcony overlooking an old storage room. It was stacked wall-to-wall with mini nukes and components to assemble them; he could almost smell the fires.

A strange weightlessness went through him at the sight, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his gun.

"You bastard."

He looked over his shoulder to Katarina, who was livid and dotted with blood. "Are you done," he questioned.

"You left him to die back there!"

"Yes, yes I did," he gestured to the room with his gun. "You believe it is a good idea to give this kind of arsenal to that jackass society."

She stepped up beside him, reeking of mutant blood. "I just need them to get me closer to Shaun," she cleared her throat. "They have access to technologies and resources I don't on my own. So they get what they want, and then I rob them blind in the end."

Kellogg's brow twitched and he smirked down at Katarina, who was staring at the arsenal with a hard jaw. "I think I could learn to like you, popsicle."


End file.
